


Chicken

by Beth Harker (Beth_Harker)



Category: Newsies (1992)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-09-30 11:04:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 328
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17222822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beth_Harker/pseuds/Beth%20Harker
Summary: Tumbler is afraid of getting sick.





	Chicken

“They call it chicken pox ‘cause when you got it, it makes you look like a plucked chicken,” Skittery explained. Several boys in the lodging house had come down with it recently, and been quarantined sharpish. So far Tumbler was not sick, but he’d gained a strange interest in all things contagion related, and seemed to think that listening to Skittery describe symptoms for him was a great bedtime story.

“And why’s measles called measles?” Tumbler asked. He’d been asking the same question every night, and Skittery had been giving the same answer.

“It turns you into a measly weasel.”

Tumbler laughed, and Skittery couldn’t help but think that a certain amount of repetitiveness, even on this very morbid topic, was worth it if it kept the kid happy.

“Scarlet fever turns you red,” Tumbler said. “'Cause scarlet means red. Mumps makes you mumpy. Small pox is so small that I’ll never get ‘em, and big pox is for giants, like Race over there.”

Race groaned from his bunk. The joke had been funny when Skittery had first told it over a week ago, but even he could see that it was getting old now.

“And how do you keep from getting these things?” Skittery asked.

“You gotta wash your hands and brush your teeth.”

“And?”

Tumbler made a sound that was between a growl and a giggle, before clobbering Skittery upside the head with his pillow. Skittery even let him do it a few times, before grabbing it from him and clobbering him right back.

“Don’t make me say it!” Tumbler said, through his laughter.

“I gotta. It’s for your health! So, tell me what you gotta do if you don’t wanna look like a mumpy, measly, plucked chicken?.”

“I gotta go to bed early.”

Skittery smiled indulgently, and gave Tumbler back his pillow. “Damn straight you do. Now close your eyes, and think healthy thoughts. You’ll be the only one in this lodging house who does.”


End file.
